A Kings Mission
by Ikoter
Summary: League of Legends side story. Follow this story as the main protagonist is trying his best to find himself. No spoilers in the summary box. But I can tell you the story will be good. I'm certain nobody will expect what will happen.
1. Chapter 1: Frustration

**Chapter 1: Frustration**

"It's alright. I am here now. Everything's going to be ok." Is what she said, and what "he" last recalled. A man opened his eyes. He found himself lying down in a warm bed, covered by a blanked. He turned his head right, where expensive luxury ornaments resided. Four white Lionbreathe flowers placed in a pot, facing opposite directions. He lifted his head, followed by the upper half of his body, causing the blanked to fall off him. He looked down, his right hand had been severely crippled and bandaged, strapped to his neck. It hurt him. He also could not feel his legs. The man removed the blanked and placed his feet out of bed. He looked through the room. On the walls, there were several pictures of accomplished individuals, most of them showing their greatness. On a table was the golden side of a crowns front. You would place it on your face not your head. Along the crown were several fruits and pots with water in case he should need them. He moved the left hand on his face and pushed against his eyes for a second, then moved down the hand. A knock on the door. "May I come in Milord?" A womanly voice was heard. "Who's there?" He exclaimed. "Shyvana, Milord." She opened the doors and entered the room with medicinal herbs and bandages in hand. She was a woman with white skin and red hair. She was splendid. He turned his head facing the floor. "I'm here to change your bandages Milord. Please, let me see your hand and leg." Only now did he notice his right leg was missing a part of the muscle. It was wrapped around in bandages, making it harder to notice. She bowed down to the leg and removed the bandages, taking out a Deathbell Flower and replacing it. She bandaged it back into place. She then rose up to see his damaged hand. She removed the bandages slowly, because they were partially sticking to his arm's skin. It hurt him, yet he did not show pain. "One moment please." She said and pushed aside the used up bandages bringing in the newer ones. She wrapped them around his hand. "All done Milord." He said: "Help me up." She took his arm over her shoulder helping him stand up. His right leg did not touch the ground because it was too damaged to be resided upon. "To the window." She helped him until there and opened one of them, but carefully making sure he does not fall off. "Where am I?" He asked. "In your room, back at the castle Milord." She said. He stared at the shining city of Damacia. It was the middle of the day. He had seen enough. "Put me back down." She moved him back on the bed and the doors to his chamber opened. An older man entered, with a long gray beard and fancy clothes. Despite this, his head was clearly visible, with nothing on it to obstruct his face. "Leave us." Shyvana bowed her head and left closing the doors behind her. The older man moved himself in front of the open window and gazed at the marvelous city of Damacia. "So, what do you want?" Impertinently the younger man asked. "I came here to apologize… and to tell you you're a fool." The younger man shook his head. "How come?" The elder replied: "You've proven me wrong, yes. But you disputed an order, given by myself, your father, to not endanger yourself." The older man's voice was harsher and angrier at the end. The young man lowered his head to look at the cold floor where his feet laid. The once cold glace which pierced through any man had now forsaken him, leaving behind a mere hollowed husk. He was empty and tired. "But, you've gotten back safe, that's a good thing, and you brought that shard you spoke so much about." Said his father. He looked up, through the window. But could not see from his current position. "Rest now. I have called for a magician to heal you." Said the father while slowly turning away to leave the room. "I am not yet done. I have to finish what I started." The son was gazing at the floor. His father stopped in his place. He could no longer control his anger and faced his son shouting: "No, you will not! You are a prince, Jarvan. Someday you will be king. I expect you to live and see that day! You will not go off and die in some dirt hole." His father told him with an angry tone. The anger in his voice was punishing. "Jarvan?" The younger man said to himself, without the King to hear him. He was an empty hollowed husk. He could not recall what has happened. The King then calmed down, waited a bit and continued: "I told the guards you are not to leave the castle. You will stay here and recover." The king left. Shyvana entered the room. "Are you alright Milord?" Followed by a reply: "I am fine." She asked: "Do you wish anything else of me?" Jarvan wanted to see the shard. "Help me up again and take me to the other window." She did as such and took him to the window leading to the castle's garden. He looked at the "shard" that his father spoke of. It was floating in mid-air with powerful magical barriers around it. It looked like a golden semi-circle. It had numerous gems on its surface, all of them transmitting magic to the nearby flora, improving its conditions and making it healthier. A flashback shook him. He witnessed a man in golden armor before him, with a golden crown on his face, impaled from bottom to neck with a long pole. His whole body was ravaged, yet it managed to say: "You… mustn't… fail!" This memory shocked Jarvan and he trembled for a second, going towards the right almost out of Shyvana's grasp. "Milord!" She stopped his fall and moved him back to his bed. Jarvan fell asleep. Shyvana went outside his chambers and turned to face another man who just arrived there. "How is he?" That man had huge shoulder pads and a long sword on his back with a scarf around his neck. "He has regained consciousness but he must rest." He looked down a moment, then said: "Oh, ok… that's good." That man left. Later that night: "You... mustn't... fail!" Jarvan heard it again in a dream. The words held desperation and fear in them. It woke Jarvan up causing him to be all sweaty in the middle of the night. The room was dark with a sprite of cold, form the window still being open. He needed to close it. He grabbed a long wooden stick, made to help him get up and move around, support his body's weight on it. He went to the window to close it. A candle opens behind him. He turns his head around to see a beautiful woman with a long white dress and white hair sitting on his bed. "Jarvan, Jarvan, how are you I wonder?" She was looking at him like a pitiful being. He moved back towards his bed and said: "I am tired and injured. Leave me alone." Jarvan said. She slightly laughed. Jarvan worked his way back into the bed, now colder than before. She placed herself on the opposite side of his bed, glaring at him. He looked at her a moment, then closed his eyes. "Leave me alone." His voice was cold. She went atop him placing her hands against his, immobilizing him. "But it's so much fun here!" She exclaimed while pushing against Jarvan's injured right hand making it hurt. He suffered. "Does it hurt, poor, poor Jarvan?" She said while having a blunt smile on her face. "Clearly you are enjoying this." A sarcastic line. "Oh, how can I not?" She released the pressure on his right hand. "I am injured, please, leave me be." The smile she had disappeared. "You're no fun." She moved closer to the window. "You Damacians are so soft." A gust of air came from outside, making her disappear into thin air. The windows closed by themselves. Jarvan returned to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2: Confusion

**Chapter 2: Confusion**

The night passed by. Jarvan opened his eyes and found himself hanging by his left leg from a tree in the middle of nowhere. He was in a wasteland of dust and sands. One tree, withered away, held him up. He heard a voice behind him: "Wake up." Followed up by a hit in his back. "What the?!" He said while turning his head around. "It's me, Airika." The same woman who snuck in his room last night was behind him with a long scythe in her hands. "What do you want?" Jarvan said despite the situation he was in. "Where is Sor?" She told him while bending her knees closer to his head. "I... don't know, I guess." Jarvan replied. "Don't play fool. He would have shown up until now. Where is he?" Airika was pressing him. "I said I don't know!" Jarvan again said. "He was part of your plan! What have you left him to do?" Airika placed the scythe around Jarvan's neck threatening to kill him. "I really, really don't know!" His last line of defense against the oppressor. She moved the scythe behind her and prepared to swing. As it was coming, Jarvan closed his eyes and raised his hands to protect himself. The scythe did not hit. He opened his eyes and slightly moved the arms to see. Airika was gone. The rope that held him snuck on the tree broke, causing him to fall. The ground was so close, yet it took him more than ten seconds to reach it. Jarvan opened his eyes. He was back at the castle, in his bed, sweaty from the dream. He grabbed a cloth piece from the nearby night stand without getting up. Jarvan just realized that he used his right hand for it. Last night, his hand was strapped tight to his chest, almost in fear of it not falling off. Now he was using it like normal, except the scars and wounds patched up by Shyvana yesterday were still visible. He wiped his face from the sweat. The doors to his chambers quietly opened. Shyvana came in with some cloths in hand and he got up. "Oh um, excuse me Milord. I thought you were still asleep. I was bringing some clothes." Shyvana told him while stopping in place. "It's alright. You can come in." She started moving again towards her initial destination, a wardrobe behind Jarvan. "Did my father say, when the healer will be here?" Shyvana quickly responded: "Somewhere near noon time Milord. It is still dark out so please rest." He looked at her and seemed awkward as she was fully awake. "Don't you sleep too?" She stopped halfway till the door looking at him. Jarvan placed one of his hands on the opposite side of his bed and said: "You can sleep here, if you'd like." Shyvana immediately turned her head around. With a shamed voice, she let out some noises that were giving it their best to be words. "A-a-a-a- C-caan't. A-a-a-a—aim bbeeesy." And just as quickly she escaped through the door. Jarvan didn't understand what she did but it didn't bother him much thus he fell asleep again. Morning came. Jarvan woke up, light shined in his chamber. He slowly lifted himself from the bed and took the wooden stick that helps him move around. He grabbed some water from the night stand near his bed and drank it. He moved towards the doors that opened up from the outside. Shyvana came in, behind here were two maid servants. "Good morning Milord. I'm here to take you to the washing room." He wasn't expecting this but it tickled his ears. "Please allow me to help." Shyvana took his right arm behind her shoulders and helped him move outside his chambers. The maid servants remained to clear the room. They arrived at the bathing chambers. The room was big. There was a pool in the middle of the room and the water was circulating everywhere in order to remain clean. There was also a waterfall. A place worthy of a king. "The pool is empty this morning so that Milord may bathe in peace." Her voice killed the silence of the curiosity. Jarvan was looking at the chamber as if it was some kind of a divine blessing. Luxurious and spacy. "Alright then." He stepped forward on his own. "Milord?!" She wasn't sure if he could walk on his own just yet so she caught up to him, at the ready if he would fall. Jarvan stopped a moment and looked at her. "What, you wanna join me in the pool?" Shyvana froze. The temperature in her blood rose and she backed away against the wall being all red around her face. "A-a-a-a-a—a-a mm-amma-a-m." Shyvana couldn't even speak right. It seemed like her grayish black armor was too tight and she couldn't breathe. Jarvan turned, removed his trousers and entered the pool. Shyvana vanished without a trace. She no doubt ran for the hills. "So, I'm a prince eh?" He seemed to be thinking deeply. Then he heard sounds from behind. Footsteps, and a voice: "I-I-I'm here, M-Milord." Shyvana came slightly ashamed. She was wearing a towel. Her face was blushing. "Ah, good, thank you for coming." She approached him as he turned around and moved away form the edge. Shyvana entered the pool and used her towel to wipe his back. "Its relaxing here. I could get used to this." He still seemed tired while saying this. "Milord may do as he wishes." Jarvan closed his eyes and fell asleep, just like that. He dreamed that he was running alongside a man dressed up in royal golden armor that also wore a crown. They were followed by three axe wielding maniacs. One of them looked dead. "Split up!" Said the guy in shiny armor as they went separate ways. They were on a mountain somewhere. Jarvan woke up. Shyvana was in front of him. He was half asleep so he fell forward. His head fell on her chest. "M-M-Milord?" Her face was red again as he was unconscious above her. Then he suddenly woke up, filled with rage and ambition. "URGHAA, WHAT AM I DOING!?" He stood up straight, his face full of seriousness. Shyvana was floating in the water unconscious of the sight before her. Jarvan left the pool dressing himself and taking his helping stick. "Milord?" Shyvana woke up. "I need you to do something. In... secrecy." She gazed at him from the edge of the pool. "Until the healer is here, gather a small group of formidable soldiers and bring them to me. And take me to the armory!"


End file.
